"Shave and a Haircut--Two Bits"

Typically I go to a mid-range salon when I need to get my hair cut here. There are Western-style salons at the big malls, but they are astronomically expensive. The mid-range ones are about one-tenth the cost, and for the most part comparable. The real reason that’s where I usually go, however, is that both times I’ve moved to this country I’ve asked a friend where to get my hair cut and I end up just going wherever they go.

But today was different. Things have just been absolutely crazy in terms of schedule lately, and even though the salon is only about 20 min. away, I had already postponed my long-overdue haircut 3 times. So when I had 30 minutes to spare today I decided to try out the local barbershop just down the street from my house. It was a trip full of experiences.

Experience #1: Bear-skin rug

So the first thing that catches my attention is the bear-skin rug they have on the floor. This is bizarre for a number of reasons. For one, this place is smaller than my bedroom—my bedroom in THIS country mind you (maybe about 8’ x 9’). The plaster and paint are peeling. The posters of all the “modern” styles on the wall are faded from the blazing sun and reminiscent of the 1980’s. So I’m thinking, “how can they afford a bear-skin rug?” What’s even crazier is that there are two of them! My next thought had something to do with the fact they have no black-bears in this country and this was definitely not synthetic.

But then I realized that the placement of the rugs was a bit odd—directly below the two barber chairs. I thought to myself, “why would you put a rug right there where all the hair would fall on…” At this point I’m sure my eyes were the size of saucers as I realized that the very thick black fur on the bear-skin rugs was actually not fur at all but merely the day’s clippings thus far.

Experience #2: Language mistake?

After chuckling to myself and regaining composure (because all of the above thoughts took place in roughly 2 seconds), I asked the barber who was busy cutting someone’s hair if he would be able to cut a foreigner’s hair. This may sound condescending, but reality is that my hair is SO different from everyone who lives here that it is a regular topic of conversation. In this culture it was more a way of giving them “an easy out” to prevent the embarrassment of a dissatisfied customer. He assured me it was no problem.

At this point he starts repeating some word that I didn’t understand. At first I thought he was just saying something to the other customer in one of the country’s 324 or so languages that I don’t know. (I only know the national language…and “know” must be regarded in very loose terms.) After about the 3rd time of no response I thought maybe he was talking to me—but I still had no clue what he was saying. Finally I realized that the guy sleeping in the second chair was not a customer bored with waiting but the other employee. The first guy had been calling his name trying to wake him up!

Experience #3: The Cut

So after I joked with the guy about wanting to make sure he was good and awake now because I didn’t want my hair to be all slanted from him falling asleep while he was cutting, the hair cutting commenced. The best way I can describe the experience is “unusual.”
You can probably guess that there were no glass jars of blue barbacide to disinfect the scissors and combs, but the real story was the cutting process itself. It was as if there were no system to it at all. He cut a bit here and a bit there; scissors here, razor there—it was like a sculptor who has a picture in his mind of what the final product will be, yet appears totally clueless to the outsider as he flits around chiseling off hunks of stone.
By the time he was done, however, I was pleasantly surprised to see that he had done exactly what I asked, and the haircut was just fine.

Experience #4: The Aftermath

So after the haircut is over, I’m about to get out of the chair when the guy puts the drape back around me. “Must’ve missed a piece” I think to myself…but no. He starts to rub my shoulders. I won’t lie, it was a bit weird for the first 1.5 seconds until I remembered being told that shoulder and facial massages are standard fare in these traditional barbershops. So I settled back in the chair and thoroughly enjoyed the next few minutes.

At the point when he walked around to the side of the chair and grabbed my face between his hands, however, I began to wonder what was going on again. “What’s he about to….” CRRRRRRACK-ACK. Before I could complete the thought he had snapped my head to one side and based on the sound re-aligned at least 8 or 9 vertebrae. As images of Frankenstein’s murderous rampage ran through my head, I tried to figure out the polite way to translate “thanks, but I’d really prefer to live another day or two.” It was to no avail. Before I could process and translate the thought, he had walked around to the other side and CRRRRRRACK-ACK-ACK. Is it possible to have your tailbone popped, because I’m pretty sure mine did! I smiled to myself as I thought, “Ok, it’s probably best if I ask them not to do that next time—but boy do I feel better!”

I thought at this point that I was certainly about to go home, but I thought wrong. Next came a very traditional shave—traditional meaning he used a straight razor and shaving cream he mixed up himself. What wasn’t so traditional was that he didn’t just shave my chin and the base of my neck, but all the way up my hairline, past my temples to my forehead.

Experience #5: Payment

How’s that for a complete service? How much would you expect to pay for this package in the States? $75? $50? The low, low price of $19.95? Well my friends, here in my neighborhood you get the whole kit-and-kaboodle: the haircut, the shave, the massage, AND the death-defying neck cracking all for less than half of what I had been paying at those mid-range salons. Translation—about 75 cents!

P.S. I had to laugh again as I made my way out of the barbershop with a very big smile on my face. The “bear-skin rug” now had highlights! ?